


bloodsport

by lalisasgf, thatsoravenboys (lalisasgf)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Joseph Kavinsky/Ronan Lynch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalisasgf/pseuds/lalisasgf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalisasgf/pseuds/thatsoravenboys
Summary: ronan is in pieces following the brutal murder of his father whilst adam is made up of cracks.au in which there's no magic but a lot of emotions, just two boys trying to find something good when their whole lives feel like they're falling apart.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Kudos: 22





	1. pt. i; opening old wounds

As Ronan heard the guttural growl of the Camaro as it pulled away, leaving him standing alone on the sidewalk, he quickly began to regret his decision. The dance studio sat about forty paces in front of him, with its low ceiling and façade of white-painted slats, it was a shining example of the Henrietta architecture that he had come to resent. Ronan surveyed the empty street around him and hesitantly thumbed the strap of his bag which sat, a constant and reassuring weight on his shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Ronan muttered, reaching for his mobile from his back pocket. He angrily punched in Gansey’s number and lifted the phone to his ear as it began to ring, and ring, and ring. 

_“The person you have called is currently_ _unavaila_ _-_ _._ _”_ Great _._

“Oh, fuck you, Dick,” Ronan spat as he jabbed viciously at the hang-up button. While it was unlike Gansey to ignore his occasional calls, Ronan decided that it was completely like Gansey to abandon him at the dance studio, roughly a 30-minute walk from anywhere of interest. Ronan mused about this obvious attempt at reminding Ronan of something in his life from before he discovered his father with his brains splattered across their concrete drive. Unfortunately for Gansey, Ronan had decided that was an impossible task but then again, Ronan sighed, Gansey loved all things impossible. His phone screen lit up with a text: 

_See you at 7. Have fun - Gansey._

Ronan noted the current time as 4.57 p.m. Great. He pocketed his phone and returned his gaze to the studio, it remained both achingly familiar and yet painfully foreign. The street was silent for a few more minutes as Ronan toyed with his options then he spotted a boy, locking up the studio. Ronan thought for a moment, he recognised the face and made his decision, it took only a few strides of Ronan’s long legs before he was reaching out with one arm outstretched to stop the door in its tracks. 

“Parrish.” Ronan acknowledged casually, as the boy turned to face him, his jaw tensing as he realised who it was. 

“Lynch?” Adam paused, his brow furrowing in confusion as he fixed his unnervingly bright gaze on Ronan. 

Ronan felt his words catch in his throat, he had most certainly not expected to see Parrish here and he was equally sure that Adam had not expected to see him. 

“I need to use the space,” Ronan gestured vaguely in front of him, “Until like 7,” He added. 

“That’s not really how it works,” Adam said dryly, “I’m closing up now,” turning away from Ronan to tug at the door. 

“Yeah, wasn’t really asking, Parrish,” Ronan said with a slight shrug, refusing to let the door budge. 

“Look, I would rather not lose my job because you need somewhere to get trashed or whatever,” Adam countered. 

“As if I’d need to come to a shitty little studio to do that, I already have a perfectly nice place,” Ronan crossed his arms, curling his lip almost in indignation. 

“So…?” Adam trailed off; his brow furrowed in evident confusion. Then suddenly his face lit up, a teasing grin settling on his elegant features. 

“You need this dance studio to dance,” Adam scoffed. 

“Sure.” Ronan replied bluntly, “You wanna see my tights?” 

He noted how Adam's hand hovered over the doorknob, clearly unsure as to whether he should trust Ronan. Adam's hands were surprisingly familiar to Ronan, especially due to the fact the over the last year that both he and Adam had exchanged no more than six words, three of which had been move followed by Parrish and no one would have even thought to describe them as acquaintances. 

And yet Ronan knew the slender fingers, the freckled skin and calloused palms but just he couldn’t place why. Ronan felt Adam hesitate and he returned his questioning gaze to Adam's face. 

“Well...what’s it gonna be, Parrish?” Ronan asked, feigning indifference. Adam let go of the door, allowing Ronan to push it open. 

“This is probably going against my better judgment,” Adam sighed and gestured for Ronan to go inside. 

“Probably,” Ronan tossed over his shoulder and strode through the doorway as though he had nothing to fear. 

Adam waited by the door, fiddling nervously with the set of keys. He knew this was a poor decision, maybe that's why he was still here, at least forty minutes after he was supposed to have locked up. Ronan Lynch, at least as far as Adam was aware, was definitely **_not_** the kind of guy you let use a place you were responsible for looking after. As a matter of fact, by this point, Adam was pretty sure that Ronan had probably poured gasoline over his, no, the **_studios’_ ** elderly piano. His imagination conjured a maniacal image of Ronan, lighter in hand, all molten eyes, and violent smiles as he set the place ablaze. Adam sighed, chastising himself for letting his imagination get carried away. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, but, on the other hand, if he ignored Ronan’s previous track record for causing damage, whether it be faces or school property, he might regret it. Adam stuffed the keys into his pocket and crept along the corridor until he reached the door to the studio. The glass door had been left slightly ajar but no sound echoed out from the studio, it was surprisingly quiet. At least he’s not burning anything. Adam paused for a moment until his desperate curiosity got the better of him, he slowly peered around the corner into the studio. 

Whatever Adam had been expecting to see, it wasn't the scene that stood before him. Ronan was posed elegantly, facing away from Adam but with his head half-turned so Adam could admire his aquiline profile, he noticed a headphone wire dangling by Ronan's exposed throat - so that's why he hadn't heard Adam. Ronan was in the center of the studio, bathed in a never-ending stream of honeyed sunlight which lit every shadow that Adam had seen on his face. Adam noted that his eyes were closed, as though Ronan was lost in prayer like this was some form of religious experience. Perhaps, Adam mused, it was. Ronan appeared like a young god, bathed in liquid gold. His jaw was still tense and yet there was a softness in his expression that Adam couldn't place, it was unfamiliar for him to see Ronan Lynch's features appear so at peace. 

Even in the soft sunlight, his beauty was still all edges, still sharp enough to cut. Next Adam's gaze was drawn to Ronan’s tattoo as his jacket lay in a crumpled heap in the corner and his shoulders were bare. It was an intricate, writhing thing that spanned the width of his broad shoulders, curling up his neck in a design that Adam wasn’t quite sure that he understood and yet it was undeniably Celtic in nature. It was only when Ronan began to **_move_** that Adam realised he had been studying Ronan for quite some time. Adam felt his breath catch in his throat. He realised that perhaps move had been the wrong word for the way Ronan danced could not simply be described. Adam knew little of ballet except that this was it, but every elegant extension, every leap, and twirl was raw emotion but what emotion it was seemed foreign to Adam. He could’ve stood there for hours but Ronan stopped almost as suddenly as he began. Ronan stared at his reflection in the mirror, his brow furrowed and suddenly his expression faltered and he turned to face Adam, attempting to conceal his surprise as he stood in the dying sunlight, which stained him like a watercolour, a piece of art, both beautiful and untouchable, his chest heaved, and his brow gleamed with sweat. 

Ronan knew that he should move, say something to make this situation real but Ronan couldn’t bring himself to do it, break something which shouldn’t have happened in the first place and the Adam coughed, a crimson flush at his cheeks, colouring them like a slap against his freckled skin. Ronan blinked a couple of times, his mouth ajar but he stayed silent as he turned to grab his bag and pull on his jacket. As he gathered his things, he couldn’t look at Adam for too long, it was like looking at the sun and each time Ronan tried to stare he was blinded but he was too brilliant, too beautiful not to try. He stood squarely in front of Adam, his bag swung casually over his shoulder, daring him to say something. Adam met his gaze through long, tangled lashes but didn’t speak which Ronan took as Adams’ embarrassment, he pushed past Adam, lightly catching his shoulder but not enough to hurt, just enough for Adam to notice. 

“Like what you saw, Parrish,” Ronan threw at him, not quite a question, he grabbed his things and made his way toward the exit. Adam moved easily out of Ronan's way and yet Adam felt Ronan's shoulder brush his. Ronan strode down the hallway, barely catching Adams' response which was tossed casually his way.

“I didn’t see any tights, Lynch.” Ronan couldn’t help but grin as he shut the door to the studio, but his chest felt tight and everything he could’ve snapped back dried in his throat. Ronan checked his phone, one text from Gansey: 

_I’m hoping you’re still_ _breathing?_ _\- Gansey._

 _am going home alone. don’t collect me._ Ronan replied and pocketed his phone before shouldering his bag. 

“Fuck.” Ronan exhaled shakily, drawing a hand over his scalp agitatedly. 

He didn’t like dealing with things, Gansey knew it, Noah knew it and well, Ronan knew it. He knew that they would let him be this evening when he returned to the flat, wouldn’t ask about the studio, wouldn’t press him to talk about how it had felt but here Ronan was, faltering as a tidal wave threatened to drown him. Just letting him be wasn’t enough for tonight. 

Ronan hadn’t danced since he’d found his father, his head bashed in and his blood seeping into the concrete. It had been easy really, in recent memory he could’ve barely stood by the time the sun began to set, let alone done a pirouette. He refused to rise to Gansey’s questions about whether Ronan had dropped by the studio and Noah’s gentle teasing as he asked if Ronan could even remember how to do a Plié. He turned away from the studio and took off, his feet hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm. Ronan ran until his breath came in short, ragged gasps that tore at his throat and his chest heaved. He looked up at the street, quickly working out where in Henrietta he was. Not far from Monmouth but closer to the nearest liquor store. Ronan paused, his choice came far easier than he’d like to admit. As he moved toward the liquor store, he felt painfully aware that as soon the first drop of his Hennessey ran down his throat like fire, he would regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO basically i posted this originally to my tumblr idk like 5 years ago i think and because quarantine i decided to pick it back up again lmao i hope you guys enjoy!!! I'll be posting each chapter weekly and they will be newly edited and slightly changed but the story in each part that I've previously written will be the same so u don't have to reread <3 please leave me a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it!!!


	2. pt. ii; no man is an island

Ronan would be lying if he said that he wasn’t used to waking with a dry mouth and pounding head and, while Ronan Lynch was many things, he was not a **liar**. His head screamed in protest as he gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position. The curtains in his room had been left ajar and an unsteady stream of early morning sunlight poured into his room. 

Ronan sighed and ran a hand over his scalp, in a vain attempt to soothe the thumping in his skull. He glanced to the left and saw that a glass of water had been left on his bedside table and even though Ronan was certain he had fallen into bed fully-clothed, his shoes were placed neatly by the door and a blanket had been pulled over him. _Gansey_ _._ _Noah_. 

“Fuck!” Ronan snarled, punching the bed in frustration. He didn’t know why he was angry, maybe it was his pounding head or more likely it was the unwavering, undeserved kindness. _Guess_ _they don’t know when to quit_. 

Ronan stood slowly, trying not to aggravate his head any further, he stumbled to the bathroom and dropped to his knees by the toilet. His stomach heaved and for a few moments, Ronan’s whole body trembled before he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He retched for a moment longer before pushing himself up until he was standing. Ronan grabbed his toothbrush, surveying himself in the mirror. His gaze met hard eyes and a set jaw. He brushed his teeth and spat aggressively into the sink before returning his gaze to the mirror, he noticed the bags under his eyes and sighed, more out of irritation at his recent lack of sleep than vanity. Vanity was not a pursuit Ronan frequented, he didn’t like to admire his reflection, perhaps afraid of who he might see staring back. He quickly turned away, moving to flush the toilet and turn on the shower. Ronan waited until the water was scalding and steam filled the bathroom, steaming up the mirror before he peeled off last night’s clothing. 

Ronan stood, placing the flats of his palms on the tiles in order to steady himself as the water chased down his body in widening rivulets. As he stood, his head bowed under the relentless stream, Ronan tried to recount his evening. He knew that he’d already been drunk when he had gotten back to Monmouth, he had slammed the door loudly, halting Gansey and Noah in their conversation, they had both turned to look at him and Ronan had hated the pity in their eyes. He was sure that he’d told them to fuck off before he had stumbled into his bedroom. Ronan rolled his shoulders slowly, trying to ease the stiffness he felt there, in fact, he noticed that the stiffness plagued most of his muscles. They all felt knotted and sore, unused to the strain that had been put on them the day before. His ballet teacher had always told him that ballet was an art form that required more skill than any sport but more grace than any other dance and Ronan knew that he was paying the price for being out of practice. He hadn’t even stretched, dashing out of the studio like it was on fire. He hated how seeing Parrish had left him flustered like that. 

“Idiot,” He chastised under his breath. 

When he finally finished in the shower, He tied a towel around his waist and grabbed his clothing. Ronan hurried back to his room and changed into his uniform, pocketing his phone before he left. Noah and Gansey were in the kitchen, Noah was slumped over his bowl of cereal while Gansey chattered aimlessly as he made coffee. They both turned to look at Ronan and he couldn’t help but notice how Gansey’s forehead creased in concern. 

“How’d you sleep?” Gansey asked as he poured Ronan a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks,” Ronan muttered, taking the mug eagerly, “I-,” Noah cut him off. 

“Look at those eye bags, you’re spoiling your looks,” Noah sighed dramatically, “It’s not like you have any charm, what will you do now?” Ronan rolled his eyes pointedly. 

“You think I’m pretty,” He responded smugly. 

“I mean, not anymore,” Noah shrugged but Ronan noted both of their grins, silently grateful to Noah for dissipating any remaining tension with his easy chatter. Ronan sipped his coffee wordlessly; they were silent for a moment before Gansey looked at his watch. 

“We should probably get going,” He began, and Ronan nodded. 

“Noah?” Ronan prodded Noah who stood slowly and followed Gansey to the Camaro. 

Ronan ran a hand over the Camaro before sliding into the front seat, next to Gansey. Noah sat behind him, his knees thumping the back of Ronan’s seat every time he tried to close his eyes. 

“Noah cut that shit out!” He snapped and Gansey sighed. 

“You two, stop fighting or I stop the car,” Gansey instructed calmly while Noah pouted. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Noah held his hands up in mock innocence. 

“Bullshit.” Ronan ground out. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, fuck you!” 

“Fuck me? Fuck you!” 

“Real fucking mature,” Ronan snorted, crossing his arms as he placed his feet on the Camaro’s dash. 

“Says you-” Noah began but he was cut off. 

Suddenly the Pig ground to a juddering halt and Ronan flung his arm out in front of Gansey to shield him from any impact. Gansey seemed breathless as he looked at Ronan, adjusting his glasses which had slipped down the bridge of his 

“Thank you,” Gansey murmured, his eyes slightly wide as though he had surprised himself. Ronan nodded, letting his hand linger on Gansey’s shoulder. 

“Noah? You good?” Ronan asked, twisting in seat to look at Noah who had his arm braced against the seat. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” He looked at Ronan, eyes sad, “Sorry,” He said, fixing his gaze downward. 

“Nah, don’t be stupid,” Ronan shrugged, brushing Noah’s hand in silent reassurance before he turned back around. “C’mon Dick,” He grinned a little, moving to fiddle with the stereo. 

“Is this my punishment?” Noah exclaimed, leaning forward to investigate as Ronan connected his phone to the aux cord. 

“Not in the slightest, my dearest Noah,” Ronan shrugged, “I happen to aux cord rights, as you well know.” 

“This is clearly **_not_** a democracy,” Noah muttered darkly as blaring EDM at an obnoxious volume filled the Pig. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 baby!!!!! i know this one is really short and might feel a bit filler-y but the next part is more from adam's pov so i felt like it was better to split it up idk?? basically i've just have been editing and writing and am pretty much up 2 part 9 (i think it'll end up being 14 parts and i might have like an epilogue or smth but that will probably come later if you guys are interested u know) i've hit 10,000 words now lol so don't worry there is plenty more lmao 
> 
> hope u guys are still enjoying it and lemme know ur thoughts PLEASE <3 i really do love that sweet sweet validation LMAO


	3. pt iii; hope is a dangerous thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from hope is a dangerous thing by lana del rey)

Adam sat in the second row of Mr. Whelk’s class for Latin, Ronan always sat behind him but one seat to the left so that Adam could make out Ronan at the corner of his eye if he tried. Today was no different. Adam tried to ignore his growing desire to turn and meet Ronan’s burning gaze, force something out of him beyond that seemingly disinterested silence that Adam had always received. It was frustrating, Adam thought, how Ronan could look at Adam like that and yet never have anything to say. Part of Adam couldn’t help feeling like it was a privilege to be **_seen_** like that, even on days where Adam felt like he was disappearing, Ronan Lynch managed to make him feel visible. He forced himself to refocus on the matter at hand, returning his attention to the front of the classroom to where Mr. Whelk was explaining personal pronouns to a disinterested audience. 

“Mr. Lynch,” Whelk snapped, causing Adams’ spine to stiffen almost instinctively, “Since you feel so comfortable with this topic that you decided to take a nap, perhaps you wouldn’t mind listing all the singular personal pronouns in their I, we and you form from nominative through to ablative?” 

Adam thought that Mr. Whelk knew better than to test Ronan at Latin but perhaps Whelk just felt like picking on Ronan, shame that Ronan would only embarrass him. 

“I’d love to except…” He said and Adam felt the scowl in his voice, “You and I are both painfully aware that would be fucking pointless,” Ronan sighed almost theatrically, as though he felt sorry for Mr. Whelk, “You know that I’m capable of doing that in my sleep...so why not ask someone who: a) gives a shit and b) might actually learn something from doing it?” Adam grinned as Ronan sank back in his seat, a self-satisfied smirk painted across his features. 

Something twisted in Adam’s chest. **_This_** was the Ronan Lynch that he recognised, there was something simple about all this anger and defensiveness because as long as Ronan fit the box Adam had created for him Adam didn’t have to do more than watch him from afar and pretend he didn’t want to understand him. 

Adam wanted to remain twisted in his seat, surveying Ronan for the remainder of the lesson, he wanted to study Ronan’s profile, the elegant curve of his neck, the hollow of his throat, the determined cast of his jaw but Adam didn’t have a death wish and so he turned back around but not before he caught a fleeting glance from Ronan who offered him a slight curl of his lip, it felt like an acknowledgment and Adam couldn’t help but grant himself a small, secret smile as though he had won something which couldn’t be seen. Adam was certain of one thing. Ronan Lynch was a mystery, packaged neatly as a familiar cliché and this confused Adam, he had been raised on black and white, grey was undeniably unfamiliar to him 

As soon as the lesson finished Ronan leaped to his feet with easy grace and made his way to Adam’s desk. 

“Parrish.” He offered. Adam looked up, fixing Ronan with a steady, unflinching stare. 

“Lynch.” He replied evenly, hoping that Ronan wasn’t about to ask about his almost studious interest in trying to keep his eyes on Ronan throughout the lesson. 

Instead, he just indicated for Adam to follow with a slight jerk of his chin. Adam quickly packed his bag and followed Ronan just outside the classroom. Ronan was leaning against a set of lockers, fiddling almost deliberately with his tie which hung loosely around his neck. 

“Parrish,” Ronan began again, a little awkwardly, which caught Adam by surprise, “Look about last night, at the studio…” He trailed off, glancing down for a moment. 

“Just-,” Ronan began but Adam cut him off. 

“It’s okay, Lynch,” He offered, “Your secrets safe with me,” Adam added, offering Ronan a half-smile. Ronan grinned, his smile lit up his face and Adam found himself a little regretful that he didn’t get to see Ronan Lynch smile more often. 

“Sure Parrish,” He covered his earlier uncertainty with a slightly arrogant shrug “You’re only saying that because you want to see me in tights,” He threw carelessly at Adam before he turned to leave and Adam was left feeling a little out of his depth, his chest even tighter than before. 

The rest of Adam’s day passed without any other incidents until Adam found himself back at his locker, gathering the last of his things. Adam felt eyes on him, and he noticed a student watching him with a keen and interested gaze. He also knew that he wasn’t just a student, it was Richard Gansey and he belonged to Ronan just as Ronan belonged to him, it begged the question as to Ronan’s whereabouts. They were a unit and rarely separated during school hours, along with Noah Czerny of course, but here he was, and most definitely headed towards Adam. 

“Adam, Adam Parrish?” Richard Gansey smiled easily as he offered Adam his hand which Adam took confusedly as he nodded in affirmation. 

“Hi,” Adam replied, he felt his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“I’m Gansey,” He paused as he moved to clean his frames on the corner of his Aglionby sweater, “Ronan, Noah and I were planning a game of tennis tomorrow afternoon and I was wondering if you’d care to join us?” He returned his gaze to Adam, he seemed eager for Adam’s reply. Adam paused; his mouth slightly ajar as his words stumbled over his tongue as he struggled to produce an answer. 

“I-uh-I’m,” Adam cleared his throat before looking at Gansey “I guess-“ Adam heard his Henrietta accent slip through and quickly corrected himself, “I mean, thank you, I’m sure that would be great!” He tried to sound enthusiastic but despite this Gansey appeared quite excited. 

“That’s great! We’re meeting at 4 o’clock, at Aglionbys’ courts,” Gansey smiled at Adam again, “Noah and I hardly ever get to meet Ronan’s friends,” Gansey’s expression darkened slightly at this “At least, the ones like you,” He added as though he expected Adam to understand what he meant. 

Adam chose not to correct him. _Ronan’s friend_. Perhaps it was out of vanity at the idea of being Ronan’s friend, something about that seemed like an honour, similar to King or Lord. Adam was certain that boys like him were definitely not friends with boys like Ronan, boys like Ronan were impossible things whose friends were equally elevated, boys like Ronan were friends with boys like Richard Gansey III and Noah Czerny, **_not_ ** Adam Parrish. Perhaps, Adam mused, after Gansey had left, it was because Ronan seemed to care for little and to be cared about by someone who held so little in his regard seemed like it was a gift only few were privy to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im ngl 2 y'all ronan and gansey playing tennis what shamelessly self-indulgent but who gon check me?????? so enjoy that next chapter also i recognise that the dynamics of the gangsey if gonna be slightly different to the books because it's an au and whilst gansey and adam are gonna be close, i think compared to the books their relationship probably won't be quite as developed u know just because this is really not gonna be that long, probably like 20,000 words so yeah i wanted to focus on adam and ronan's relationship u know  
> anyway the more i push on the more i realise that the plot for this is Thin at best but this is my first ever fic so i'm once again asking for your leniency LMAO


	4. pt. iv; you look so free, the way you use your body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ronan felt less heavy when he was with them, perhaps that was the way it would always be, each of them shouldering a part of him he struggled to carry and then pretending it wasn’t a burden.'
> 
> (chapter title is from hunger by florence + the machine)

Adam stood, leaning against the wireframe of the tennis court feeling undeniably overwhelmed. In the entirety of his time at Aglionby he had only visited their tennis courts once and that had not been of his own accord. He was fairly certain that no-one expected him to play and yet, he felt his stomach twisting into an ever-tightening gordian knot as each minute passed, maybe it was the unfamiliar surrounding or even the fact that at the back of his mind sat the idea that perhaps this was some elaborate practical joke with the intention of leaving Adam here, stranded. He pushed that thought to the back of his head with practiced control and checked his watch again only to hear a familiar voice calling his name. 

“Adam!” Gansey called and Adam turned around to see Gansey waving with Ronan, Noah Czerny, and a petite girl who Adam was unfamiliar with in tow. Noah and the girl were both dressed loudly, all flashes of colour and varying prints which created a sharp contrast to Gansey and, much to Adam's surprise, Ronan. They were both dressed in immaculate tennis whites, Ronan’s racket was slung lazily as his shoulder and Adam couldn’t help but smile a little, he never thought he would see Ronan Lynch look like an advertisement for the Aglionby tennis team. 

Gansey looked every bit the part as Adam expected, he appeared like the heir to the Aglionby throne and he wore it well but Ronan stood behind him and Adams’ gaze couldn’t help but linger, it was almost surreal to see Ronan Lynch, who had managed to create a disheveled air about himself in every other faction, so…neat, polished and yet when Adam raised his eyes to Ronan’s face, there was still an animosity about it, something almost feral and unknowable to Adam. As Ronan met Adams stare, he raised his jaw slightly, challenging Adam to look away but Adam refused, so he returned Ronan’s stare with wary confidence before Gansey reached him, hand outstretched as he offered an easy smile. 

“Adam, I’m so glad you could make it,” Gansey grasped Adams’ hand and firmly shook it, and when he got that close, Adam noted the crinkling at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. 

“Yeah of course, thanks for the invite,” Adam returned before the girl stepped forward and enveloped him in a warm hug. She was considerably shorter than Adam and he found himself 

“Adam Parrish,” She smiled warmly, “I’m Blue Sargent, I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure,” Adam noted the lilt in her voice, reminiscent of his own and his felt some tension seep from his frame. 

Noah stepped forward slightly. To Adam, Noah had always seemed softer at the edges than Ronan, something about him almost seemed smudged as though when his design had been completed someone had taken their thumb and smoothed his edges because the world had enough sharp boys. 

“Adam, right? I’m Noah,” Noah giggled, “Knew you’d be pretty.” Adam couldn’t help but notice how Noah casually glanced back at Ronan, who’s face remained impassable apart from a slight curl of his lip. 

“Parrish.” Ronan acknowledged brusquely before turning away to unpack two tennis rackets from his bag. Gansey cleared his throat and glanced between the four people in front of him. 

“Right. Everyone.” He paused for a moment, barely noticeable “Adam, Blue, Noah - are you alright to watch?” He asked, and Blue grinned impishly. 

“Dick, would I ever sit on the sidelines for you?” 

But Adam noticed the way she nudged him affectionately, “We’ll be fine,” She reassured Gansey, but Adam knew that Gansey had said more for Adam’s reassurance. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” She teased good-naturedly and turned away from Gansey with Noah in tow. Adam followed her as well, it seemed natural to fall in behind Blue with her easy confidence and a kind smile. They sat outside the court on a grassy patch, covered with a smattering of daisies. They all sat, Blue crossed her legs and patted the spot next to her. 

“Sit,” She invited, and Adam sat next to her. Noah collapsed next to them in a tangle of limbs and an oversized sweater. 

“So, Adam,” Noah grinned, “Ronan really has kept you to himself, huh?” 

Adam laughed, shaking his head good-naturedly. 

“Lynch and I aren’t exactly even on a first-name basis.” 

“Hey, that’s good,” Blue laughed unabashedly, “Well, first names are overrated anyway.” Noah rolled his eyes at this, nudging her affectionately. Noah turned his attention back to Adam. 

“So, I’m guessing you’re from Henrietta?” Noah asked, tilting his head. Adam glanced down at his hands. _Was it that obvious?_

“Yeah, born and bred,” He tried to smile good-naturedly. Blue returned it. 

“Me too!” She grinned easily. Before Blue and Noah were able to probe further their attention was drawn to the court where Adam and Gansey were taking their places. 

“You ready to get your ass handed to you?” Ronan jeered from the other side of the court. 

“We’ll see, you’re a little out of practice!” Gansey called back. 

“Insufferable,” Blue sighed but she said it with such affection that Adam believed it was a compliment, she watched Gansey attentively despite her earlier comment. 

“It’s been a while since they played together,” She chewed absent-mindedly on her lower lip. 

“She’s saying that it could be a bit of a shit show,” Noah translated helpfully. 

“Yeah, what he said,” Blue shrugged ruefully, “Sometimes competition gets the best of them...,” She trailed off and turned her attention back to the game as the two boys hit the ball back and forth between them with languid ease. 

“I suck at tennis,” Noah sighed, pouting slightly which made Blue lean over to ruffle his hair, a smile catching at her cheeks. Adam felt a pang of jealously, he’d never known friends like this and until this moment, Adam had never realised how much he had wanted them. They all grew quieter as the game began in earnest, both Ronan and Gansey’s shots becoming increasingly purposeful. Adam studied them both carefully, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two. Gansey was calm, each of his shots were textbook after what Adam imagined to be years of practice and yet as Ronan’s shots became more aggressive and unpredictable, Adam could see Gansey forgetting the textbook, letting everything become more instinctual and he could see Ronan’s excitement at this side of Gansey, perhaps this was a side of Richard Gansey III that Ronan could only ever glimpse in rare intervals when he managed to force Gansey to catch alight. Adam let his gaze drift back to Ronan as he dominated his side of the court. Ronan stood, every fibre of his being remaining tense as he waited for Gansey to serve. Adam watched Ronan’s jaw clench and unclench, his hands as they rolled his racket back and forth in his palms and the sinews of his forearms tensing as Gansey moved. 

And then Gansey served. 

Ronan moved forward with venomous grace to reward Gansey’s serve with a punishing backhand that he had little trouble returning much to Ronan’s chagrin. Ronan covered the court with the same unmistakable grace that Adam had first seen when he watched Ronan dance but there was a different intensity in his expression, Adam noted. The game became more heated as both players fought for every point and Adam noticed the flush which had crept up Ronan’s neck and onto his cheeks. It was Ronan’s serve and he stood on the backline, bouncing a tennis ball repeatedly off his racket as he waited for Gansey to get back into position. Ronan raised his arm and swung, a small sound of exertion, not quite a moan, escaping his throat as the ball rocketed toward Gansey. Adam felt his breath catch slightly, a small hitch in the steady pulse of his heart at that sound. He wondered whether Blue or Noah had noticed but they kept their eyes fixed on the battle in front of them. Adam pulled at his sleeves awkwardly, wishing the crimson he could feel colouring his cheeks would stop. You’re a mess Parrish, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, trying to ease himself back to a more sensible headspace. 

“Crap!” Blue sighed as Gansey missed the shot. 

“Called it,” Noah crowed and Blue playfully punched his shoulder. 

“Shut up,” She grinned and looked over at Adam, “Who do you want to win? Noah and I are hedging bets and the loser buys ice cream at Nino’s.” 

“Nino’s? Like the diner?” Adam asked. 

“Yeah!” Noah piped up, “It’s kinda our local haunt.” 

“So, pick your bet carefully,” Blue raised her eyebrows challengingly, “I’m betting on Gansey, purely out of bias even though I’m pretty sure that I’m gonna be buying,” She laughed, tucking her hair absent-mindedly behind her ears. 

“Yeah, well, since I _definitel_ y don’t want to buy again,” Noah paused “I’m afraid there is zero chance I’m betting for Dick, I mean, Ronan is playing like a monster today,” Noah leaned back into the grass, tilting his head back as though he was trying to catch the remaining rays of warmth on his sun-blanched skin. 

“Adam?” Blue prompted and Adam turned to face her. 

“Um, I mean,” Adam cleared his throat slightly awkwardly “What I meant was that I don’t really have a vested interest…” He trailed off, glancing down at his hands. Blue nodded for a moment, glancing at Noah. 

“Put him down for Ronan,” Noah added without opening his eyes. 

“Good idea,” Blue grinned and when Adam met her eyes, she winked. Blue turned back to the game and Adam turned, following suit, choosing to remain silent as Ronan prepared for the final serve. As he swung, Adam heard that same fucking sound escape Ronan’s lips and- 

“Fuck yeah!” Ronan called across the court as Gansey stood, grinning as though he’d just won the Grand Slam final, “Suck it, Dick,” Ronan jeered as swung his racket in a destructive downward sweep. 

“Classy,” Gansey replied but his smile wasn’t dampened as he moved toward the gate of the court. Blue stood and made her way over to Gansey, offering him a double high five. 

“Next time champ,” She teased, Gansey wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug, “You’re a sweaty mess,” She laughed, wriggling free after she planted a kiss on his cheek. 

“Bit rude, Jane,” Gansey tried to sound hurt. 

“You’ll get over it,” She shrugged. While Gansey packed away their rackets, Ronan grabbed two water bottles and tossed one in Gansey’s direction. 

“Good game,” Gansey grinned at Ronan as he caught the water bottle.

“Thanks.” Ronan shrugged at the compliment and twisted the cap of his bottle, taking a long gulp. 

Adam watched as water ran down his chin and then his throat in twisting rivulets, carving a path on his skin. Ronan wiped his mouth with his forearm and then poured the remains of the bottle over himself, in an attempt to cool off. Adam wanted to look away, something about this scene was meant to be private and once again Adam had intruded. He struggled for a moment, turning his gaze away but his cheeks felt unnaturally hot. 

“Nino’s?” Ronan asked as he wrapped a towel casually around his neck. 

“Of course,” Blue smiled “I owe all of you, even you Lynch, ice-cream,” She took Gansey’s hand, “I bet on you,” She sighed mournfully. 

“Poor decision,” Noah gloated. 

“Hmmm,” Blue turned to flip Noah off, grinning. Noah sighed and linked arms with Ronan, dragging him to the BMW, “Adam, why don’t you ride with Ronan and Noah?”

Adam nodded, appreciating her making that decision for him. He turned to the BMW where Noah was waiting. 

“You ready?” Noah asked Adam as he climbed into the BMW. 

“Come on Parrish, we haven’t got all day,” Ronan snapped, hand draped over the wheel. 

“Yeah, alright,” Adam sighed as he clambered into the back slightly awkwardly. 

“Let’s go,” Ronan revved the engine aggressively as the car leaped forward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANYWAY!!!! im back for summer baby <3 hope yall enjoy gonna keep writing and editing because i wanna finish this bad boy by the end of summer lmao 
> 
> next chapter impending!!!


	5. pt. v; don't fight me now 'cause you might need me later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from bloodsport by raleigh ritchie)

The drive to Nino’s was reasonably uneventful. Noah’s aimless chattering filled the tense silence which Ronan was undeniably grateful for. Each time Ronan glanced in his rearview mirror he saw Adam, his face tilted away, his eyes cast downward so he could see Adam’s long lashes as they fanned out over his cheeks, his stupid, excessively freckled cheeks. It was odd, Ronan mused, he had never found freckles captivating until he had seen Adam Parrish.

“Hey, eyes on the road,” Noah murmured, nudging Ronan affectionately. Ronan shrugged Noah off, feeling his face flush. He pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, feeling the BMW surge forward, it felt almost primal as they accelerated down the final straight before Ronan would have to slow as they neared Nino’s. The engine snarled, gathering speed with ease and he allowed himself a small, secret smile, holding onto its ferocity for just a moment longer before he began to steady the car. They parked and quickly exited the car as the Camaro drew up alongside them.

“Glad to see The Pig is still going strong,” Ronan quipped as he locked the BMW. Gainsay stroked the hood of his car affectionately.

“As if I would let anything happen to her,” He pouted slightly “She’s my-,” He was cut off by Blue,

“Your baby,” Blue finished “We all understand how precious she is, now, ice-cream?” She asked and Ronan noticed the way she took Gansey’s hand and carefully intertwined their fingers. For all her teasing, she still looked at Gansey like he was more than the sun like she felt warmer when he was near.

“And you’re buying Jane,” Gansey  smiled and everything seemed easier then. Ronan felt less heavy when he was with them, perhaps that was the way it would always be, each of them shouldering a part of him he struggled to carry and then pretending it wasn’t a burden. He didn’t know how to tell them he was grateful, he wasn't sure he could. He noticed Parrish, loitering beside the BMW.

“Come on Parrish, if you’re not careful someone might think you’re trying to steal my car,” Ronan called, this comment caused Adam to blush and rush to catch up with Ronan.

“Atta boy,” Ronan muttered, earning a disdainful look from Adam.

“Whatever, Lynch,” 

They piled into the Nino's, voices and laughter disrupting the quiet diner.  Adam and Ronan ended up on the same bench, their knees knocking and shoulders brushing. Ronan could've sworn he felt Adam stiffen, attempting to take up less space on the bench. _Fuck._ Ronan stole a furtive glance at Adam who was deliberately focused on his menu. 

“Ronan? Adam?” Gansey asked them, dutifully collecting orders.

“Vanilla,” Ronan tore his gaze away, meeting Gansey's questioning gaze.

“Mint, please,” He watched as Adam paused and reached into a pocket, drawing out a battered wallet.

“I’m buying, remember?” Blue had returned from chatting to Orla and paused as she scanned the napkin where Gansey had scrawled the orders in questionable italics.

“Vanilla? You’re such a _square_ Ronan,” He saw her mouth quirk as she stuffed the napkin into the front of her overalls. 

"Square? Didn't realise we were living in the fucking 80s Sargent," R onan  scowled, feeling his shoulders hunch a little in annoyance. Ronan felt Adam's gaze on him, a bemused expression on his face. Their eyes met for a moment and Ronan felt something catch in his throat. A moment later Adam had turned his attention to Gansey. 

“I could take a look at the Camaro, I mean...if you wanted…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and glancing down at his lap.

“No." Gansey frowned, "I mean-, it’s just that it’s my car,” He sighed and Ronan noted how his brow furrowed, “I should learn how to look after it,” He paused, “But I would be grateful if you could teach me how to look after her?” Gansey chewed his lip, “I could pay you for your time?” He offered. Ronan winced a little, Gansey's normal charm and tact seemed to be failing him this particular evening. 

“Um,” Adam stuttered, Ronan could see he was unsure of what his answer should be and could see the relief in his eyes when Blue returned with their ice-cream and Orla.

“Okay boys," Orla fixed them with a winning smile and started to hand out their cones, she finally reached over Ronan to give Adam his, and Ronan noticed the way she lingered there for a moment. He frowned at that. 

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” She drew back, waiting for Adam to answer.

“Adam,” He offered, smiling slightly.

“Orla,” She returned his smile “Where-,”

“So, I think we all have our ice-cream,” Ronan interrupted, he knew it was rude and Orla pouted, fixing him with a glare. He couldn't bring himself to care. Adam looked at him, his brow  furrowed and confusion was evident in his expression.

“Thank you,” He offered Orla, while Ronan remained silent, his eyes fixed on his dessert.

“Anytime sweetheart,” She said, smile back in place, “Well, I guess I'll see you all later,” She turned from their table to take someone's order.

“Do you always have to be a dick?” Blue hissed as she slid in next to Gansey.

“Yes,” Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Good to know,” She sighed and took a bite of her ice-cream. By the time they had finished their ice-cream, it was  late and Ronan could see Adam checking his watch nervously.

“Curfew, Parrish?” He tried to make it sound disdainful but the only emotion evident in voice seemed to be a concern.

“Something like that,” He nodded, pressing his mouth into a thin line.

“Ronan, why don’t you drive him? We can all fit into the Camaro,” Noah piped up. Ronan sighed.

“Fine, hope you know the way Parrish,” Ronan huffed. He stood, stretching and he heard his back click satisfyingly.

“ Mmm ,” Adam mumbled a response as he stood, turning to thank Noah, Gansey, and Blue.

“I had a good time,” He  finished, earning warm smiles. Ronan rolled his eyes, gesturing for him to hurry up.

"You're the one with the curfew, Parrish," 

Once they were outside, Ronan strode toward the BMW and he heard Adam jog to catch up with him. Ronan unlocked the car and watched as Adam slid gracefully into the passenger seat. It was dark as the BMW pulled away from Nino’s. Ronan wished he could see the stars, stars, and freckles, he sighed, new things which Ronan was beginning to  realise were beautiful. The drive was quiet but not unpleasantly so, it was a comfortable silence between them as the BMW sped smoothly down the quiet Henrietta roads.

“I had fun tonight,” Adam paused, “Thanks,” He murmured.

“Thank Gansey, I didn’t invite you,” Ronan said brusquely and then immediately regretted his words. He wanted to tell Adam that he hadn’t always been this sharp, he hadn’t always been all  edges but the truth caught in his throat, and instead he resigned himself to silence.

“I did,” He heard Adam sigh, “and now I’m thanking you,” He finished pointedly. The drive returned to that easy silence, except for when Adam occasionally spoke up to offer Ronan directions. 

“You can drop me off here,” Adam said, indicating to a small lay-by.

“What?” Ronan felt his brow furrow in confusion, “Parrish, it’s dark and at least a ten-minute walk to anywhere?”  He didn’t slow the car and instead said, his voice softer than earlier, “Let me drive you home, okay?” Adam greeted him with silence for a moment and Ronan could almost feel him wrestling with some unseen demon.

“Okay,” Adam finally offered, his voice equally low and rough. Satisfied, Ronan continued on until Adam indicated their final turn. Ronan turned off the street and into the trailer park. 

“This is it,” Adam muttered, his voice gruff and Ronan  realised that it was from embarrassment.

“Okay,” was all Ronan said as he pulled over outside the mobile home Adam directed him to. Ronan cut the engine and they sat there like that for a moment, Ronan suddenly very aware of his pulse and Adam's soft breath. The lights were on in Adam’s house and Ronan turned to look at his profile in the dark, he could only just see his freckles and then Adam spoke.

“I have to get inside,” He  paused and Ronan thought he might be imagining the reluctance in Adam’s voice. Not because he wants to stay with you, Lynch.

“Yeah, of course,” Ronan said and as Adam opened his door, Ronan could hear a loud voice, thick with alcohol from inside the trailer. Adam waited a moment and then turned to Ronan, he touched Ronan’s forearm, just above the leather bands on Ronan’s wrist.

“Thank you,” Adam paused “Stay in the car, yeah?” Ronan nodded dumbly. Adam left to walk to the trailer and Ronan sat there, numb. Once Adam was inside, he heard the same voice and the sound of something smashing, it seemed too violent, too angry, and so he twisted the keys in the ignition and drove back to Monmouth. Ronan Lynch felt like a coward, he should've told Adam that he wasn't going inside, no, he was coming with him. 

When he fell into bed that night, his dreams were quiet, a blur of freckles and stars until they merged into one and then the crashing of glassware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES bitch im almost done editing my previously written chapters so new stuff coming asap !!! hope everyone is enjoying this etc i really can't wait to get onto the more intense scenes


	6. pt. vi; i can't help but think of you in these four walls my thoughts seem to wander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from remains by bastille vs rag'n'bone man vs skunk anansie)

Adam reluctantly surveyed his appearance in one of the studios' large mirrors. He looked like he had lost a fight with a pane of glass, least of all due to the cuts which flecked his face. There, both bruise and shadow became one, a hazy, deepening violet like a dusky sky. Adam sighed, he had been doing that a lot recently, but he felt deflated, as though he was shrinking into himself and he wasn’t sure how to stop it. It was awfully lonely, he thought, disappearing. Adam returned to the piano stool and sat, tracing the piano keys with a single, delicate finger. He let his mind wander to the day before, he thought of Ronan’s unwavering gaze and the feeling of his skin beneath Adam’s touch and realised perhaps that was what it could mean to be real, to exist. He soon fell into a tune, nothing exciting, just an old practice piece he had memorised when he was thirteen, he had always loved this piece even though it lacked complexity, maybe he just liked the familiarity. As the piece drew to a finish, Adam heard someone slowly clapping and he glanced up. 

“Lynch?” He asked, disbelief evident in his voice despite the fact Ronan was stood right in front of him, leaning against the doorframe with practiced nonchalance. 

“Who else?” Ronan said, “this place isn’t exactly buzzing,” Adam shrugged lifting his head to look at Ronan. 

“Well, maybe not by your standards,” He snorted. Adam met Ronan’s ocean eyes and Ronan let out a low whistle as he took in Adam’s face properly. 

“Holy shit, Parrish,” His brow furrowed, his gaze darkening, “I didn’t realise you were a member of the Henrietta Fight Club,” 

Adam raised his chin and let a hollow laugh ring out. 

“Yeah, well Lynch, there’s plenty of things you don’t know about me,” He sighed, again. 

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” Ronan held his hands up in a placating manner, “you’re unknowable,” Ronan moved towards him slowly, like Adam was a nervous deer caught in Ronan’s headlights and he was doing his best to avoid startling him. Ronan gestured to the stool. 

“Do you mind?” 

“Be my guest,” Adam replied quietly, shuffling up slightly to accommodate Ronan’s broad frame. Ronan was silent as he watched Adam pluck absent-mindedly at the piano keys. 

“Seriously, what the fuck happened?” Ronan asked, his voice was quiet and yet Adam could feel the tension in Ronan’s frame. 

“First rule of Fight Club, remember?” Adam teased gently. Ronan shook his head irritatedly. 

“Bullshit, Parrish.” His tone demanded a real answer, but Adam remained silent, returning his focus to the ivories. 

“Fine, whatever,” Ronan stood up, turning to take a lap around the dance studio to ease his frustration. Adam wasn’t sure why, but he got the impression that it wasn’t whatever to him. He turned slightly to look at Ronan, who met his gaze. 

“Did you need the studio?” Adam changed the subject smoothly, eager to return the attention to Ronan, “to dance?”

“Not today, I just…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck with an almost boyish awkwardness, he swallowed, and Adam followed the elegant curve of his throat. He was surprised to catch Ronan Lynch at a loss, feeling a burst of warmth swell in his chest. He forced it down. 

“Keep playing?” Ronan asked and Adam felt himself break into a tentative smile. 

“Sure, take a seat,” Adam gestured to the piano stool. Ronan returned to his perch next to Adam on the piano stool, his shoulder brushing Adam’s as they sat in companionable silence. He looked at the sheet music on the piano, it was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and another favourite of Adam’s. He could hear Ronan’s soft breath, close to his ear, and feel his gaze on his hands as they danced along the keys. They stayed like that for a while, quiet and calm, the only sound being their occasionally hitched breath and the soft twinkling melody of the piano. 

“You’re actually pretty good, Parrish,” Ronan grinned and Adam scoffed. 

“Thanks, don’t be too generous, it’ll go to my head,” Adam countered. 

“Sure,” Ronan paused, “Do you want a ride home?” He offered, quieter. Adam chewed his lip, wringing his hands absent-mindedly. He knew that he would probably regret whatever decision he made. 

_To exist_. 

“Okay, sure,” He stood, “thanks,” He added, earning a half-shrug from Ronan. 

“S’nothing,” He mumbled, suddenly looking unsure.

“It’s not,” Adam insisted, he met Ronan’s gaze, yearning to feel Ronan’s eyes on him. He wasn't sure why it was so important to him that Ronan knew this meant something to him.

“Let’s go, Parrish,” Ronan said, his voice rough. 

“Lead the way,” Adam gestured for Ronan to go. Ronan didn’t reply and instead stood, starting toward the door. Adam followed, letting out a low whistle at the sight of Ronan's BMW. He hadn't gotten the chance to comment on the beautiful car that probably cost the same amount as Adam's trailer before and he refused to let the opportunity escape him again.

“Bit flashy for you, Lynch?” Adam teased, eager to ease the tension which seemed to linger in the air between them today. 

“I would say it’s exactly flashy enough,” Ronan’s lip curled into a half-grin. 

“Whatever you say,” Adam lowered himself into the passenger seat and felt the car come to life as Ronan turned the key in the ignition. Adam presumed that their journey would pass in comfortable silence, like last time but Ronan stole a few furtive glances in Adam’s direction, seeming as though he wanted to say something. It wasn’t until Adam met his gaze that Ronan broke the silence. 

“Parrish,” He began, once again seemingly unsure as gnawed on his lip. Adam felt his shoulders tighten at Ronan’s tone, “What happened?” 

“With what?” Adam replied evenly, keeping his gaze fixed firmly ahead.

“Don’t play dumb,” Ronan let out a frustrated groan, “Your face, Parrish, what the fuck happened to your face?” 

“This?” Adam forced a brittle laugh, “It’s nothing, I tripped, so you can drop it,” The latter part came out too sharp and Adam felt Ronan bristle. 

“What? Into a pair of fists? That’s real fucking convenient,” He growled, Adam could hear the irritation in Ronan’s voice, masking another emotion which perhaps, Adam thought, Ronan believed it would leave Ronan more vulnerable than he was ready to be. 

“Yeah, now, could you please drop it,” Adam ground the words out, hoping but doubting that Ronan would do just that. 

“No, I’m not going to just drop it,” Ronan rubbed the back of his neck again, “It was your dad, wasn’t it? I heard him last night, heard the glass smash-,” 

Suddenly the car was squealing to halt, and Ronan had flung an arm out in front of Adam to stop his head from smashing into the dash and adding to his already impressive array of violet bruises which coloured his face. Adam turned to Ronan. 

“Jesus Christ,” He began but Ronan was already getting out of the car and Adam saw then why he had stopped the car so suddenly. In the middle of the road, a small bird flapped lopsidedly, occasionally cawing as Ronan approached it. Adam watched, as Ronan crouched in front of the bird and extended a hand. It was probably young, Adam guessed, because of its size but even so he expected Ronan to return with a few nasty scratches and no bird. Instead, Ronan was carrying a small raven with feathers that reflected the light from the car's headlights, reminding Adam of an oil slick. 

“Her wing is all broken,” was all that Ronan said as he climbed back into the car. 

“Her? How do you know it’s a she?” Adam asked, looking at Ronan, his expression a mix of awe and confusion. Ronan shrugged, carefully wrapping the bird in his hoodie and settling her in his lap. 

“You got a name?” Adam asked as he regarded Ronan who paused for a moment, brow furrowed in thought.

“Chainsaw,” He said simply, and Adam suddenly softened. 

“Thanks for saving my face,” Adam half-smiled, glancing back at Ronan. 

“Too little, too late,” was all Ronan said, his voice pained. 

“Hey….,” Adam trailed off, he didn’t have a reassurance for Ronan and he refused to tell him another lie. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Ronan that it was fine. Even if he did, Ronan wouldn’t believe him. Adam knew that Ronan could see the fracture lines all over his face. 

“We should get going,” Ronan said, his voice cutting through Adam’s thoughts. 

“Yeah,” He replied softly. The car revved and sped toward a place that Adam wished was more foreign than familiar to him. 

Ronan parked outside the trailer and looked at Adam but remained silent. Adam looked back, refusing to look away, daring Ronan to do something or say something, anything. Suddenly Adam heard shouting and he flinched, breaking Ronan’s gaze. He sat for a moment and then opened the car door. 

“Don’t,” Ronan’s voice was barely above a whisper and Adam paused, his hand resting reluctantly on the door handle. 

“I…,” Adam shook his head, “I’m sorry, okay?” He offered Ronan. 

“Don’t apologise to me,” He glanced at Adam, “Seriously, you don’t owe me anything,” There was an intensity in his voice and Adam realised Ronan didn’t want to be owed anything, especially not by Adam.

“Look, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Adam sighed. 

“You could stay on our couch,” Ronan blurted out, in a rare moment of boyish uncertainty “I mean-,” Adam cut him off. 

“I don’t need a handout, Lynch.” His tone was final. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just-,” His voice was strained, as he ran a hand over his buzzed scalp as he fumbled for the words. The silence was heavy, Adam could have sworn he heard both their hearts pounding 

“One day, he’s gonna fucking kill you,” Ronan finished, glancing over at Adam. His thumb rested on his lower lip; his mouth slightly ajar as though he had surprised himself with the truth. Adam found himself staring at Ronan's lower lip which jutted out slightly. What a glaringly inappropriate time to find himself unable to tear his gaze away from Ronan's mouth, Adam might have laughed at himself if the circumstances had been different. Adam shook himself a little.

“Goodnight, Lynch.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new writing coming next chapter no longer just edits!!!! im really excited for the next couple of parts so i hope u guys like them as well <3


	7. pt. vii; and i'd give up forever to touch you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from iris by the goo goo dolls)

Almost two months passed, and summer crawled lazily over Henrietta. Ronan didn’t mention Monmouth Manufacturing and the empty couch again to Adam, but he felt as though Ronan watched him more deliberately since their car ride. Adam would feel Ronan’s hot gaze, burning through him. Before, when Adam would turn to meet his gaze Ronan would’ve simply thrown him a lazy, disinterested stare and defiant curl of his lip, like he was daring Adam to look away. Now Ronan would glance away after their eyes briefly met, as though he felt that his gaze was now unwelcome. Adam wished he wouldn’t. 

Adam found that he slotted into their group like a piece each hadn’t realised they were missing and soon, he wasn’t to be found without at least one of them by his side. Adam liked it, feeling wanted, feeling accepted. He could admit that. Maybe it was harder to admit that Ronan’s presence was the one that he yearned for the most. There was something about his stormy gaze and unwavering stance that Adam simultaneously envied and felt drawn to. It was such a foreign feeling to Adam, to want and be wanted. He wasn’t even sure if he believed it. Everything which his father had instilled in him from birth made Adam almost certain he was unwantable, undesirable, unknowable. And yet part of him was certain that to Noah, Gansey, and Ronan he was indispensable. 

Suddenly Adam was torn from his thoughts when he noticed Ronan striding across the campus park to the bench where Adam was sat. His tie hung, unknotted, around his throat and his brow was furrowed. None of his easy confidence was evident, despite his apparent eagerness to appear nonchalant. Ronan’s hands were shoved into his pockets and a cigarette dangled from his lips. Adam noticed the wicked grin which started to form, as though he appreciated the not-so-subtle glances he was earning from his fellow students. Adam felt charged like he had been shocked as he met Ronan’s electric gaze. Stormy blue as they bore into Adam. But he couldn’t look away, not yet. This was the first time in weeks that Ronan had really looked at him and Adam never wanted him to stop. 

“Parrish, fancy a fieldtrip?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look....i know ronan like doesn't smoke in cannon but i've taken so many liberties already that i thought i'd take one more....also the imagery of adam seeing him with like his unknotted tie and cigarette drawing attention to his lips seemed very fun and sexy and sure 2 cause a bi disaster in adam
> 
> this is like a little filler chapter i might add more to it at a later date but i want to get moving with the story and like i don't think this is particularly good but yeah i'm really desperate to get to the next couple of parts!!!!


	8. ix; the two of us are just young gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from young god by halsey)

Ronan moved down the central aisle of the almost abandoned church with easy familiarity, making his way towards the altar. Adam hung back, watching him with disguised interest. 

“When you said field trip, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, Lynch,” Adam tried to sound indignant. It really wasn’t what he had expected when Ronan had approached him all wicked smiles and an unlit cigarette, looking like a bad idea. 

“Well, I _am_ Catholic, Parrish,” Ronan turned to face Adam as he reached the altar. He raised an eyebrow and fixed Adam with an expression which was almost scathing and yet there was an unmistakable flash of uncertainty which left a hint of vulnerability in his otherwise impassable front. 

“How was I supposed to know?” Adam huffed, “religion isn’t exactly a normal focus for our conversation,” this earned Adam an eye-roll he felt was deserved. 

“Whatever Parrish, I’ll keep that in mind next time we have a chat,” Ronan took a seat on the steps below the altar, “maybe I’ll bring up my thoughts on the Vatican and its undue influence on Rome,” 

“Maybe you should, I’m sure you have plenty to say,” 

“Fuck off.” 

“You’re the one who asked me here if my company is really so unbearable maybe you should’ve invited someone else,” 

This earned a chastised silence from Ronan, who now focused his attention on the empty church. Adam followed his lead, taking in the tableau before him. Everything bathed in the dying Henrietta sun; speckles of dust filled the air and the atmosphere seemed heavy with unspoken words. 

He returned his gaze to Ronan, finding his breath catch at the sight. Ronan’s brow was furrowed, and he rested his chin lightly on his clasped palms. He was reminiscent of a sculpture, all hard lines, and sculpted edges. Sometimes Adam felt very privileged to look at Ronan Lynch. However, the more he looked the more he came to realise Ronan was not as unreadable as one might think and it was clear that something was resting heavy on Ronan’s shoulders. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Adam prodded gently as he reached Ronan. He flinched slightly at Adam’s words, disrupting the quiet between them. Ronan glanced up at Adam, breath catching his chest as he saw Ronan’s pained expression. Ronan shook his head slightly and stood. 

“We had my father’s funeral here,” His voice was rough, threatening emotion, “I haven’t been back since and I just-,” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a shaky breath. It was as though he was scared of where this was going and needed a moment to be certain, to steel his nerves. When his eyes flickered open again they were so close. _Too_ _close_ _._ Hurtling across an invisible line that Adam had drawn between him and Ronan Lynch. 

“I just wanted you...here, that’s all,” 

And there it was. 

“Ronan...,” 

Ronan was a breath away, so close that Adam could make out the faded minute scar above his lip, so close he could almost...his gaze flickered up from Ronan’s mouth back to his unwavering gaze, issuing a challenge which Adam longed to meet...and so he did. 

Their lips met and everything was on fire. 

When Ronan kissed him, Adam found himself regretting that he had gone most of his life and never been kissed like this. For those few heartbeats there was nothing but Ronan’s mouth on his and Ronan’s hand at the back of his neck, steady yet light enough to give Adam the chance to move away. However, it was Ronan who pulled back first, eyes widening as though he was startled. Adam watched as Ronan stepped back, seeming eager to put space between them, retreat back across the unseen line. He was suddenly so quickly out of Adam’s reach and Adam longed to pull him back, imploring that he was too far away. Instead the church was silent, Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, so loud he was certain Ronan could hear it. 

“I should go.” Ronan’s low voice cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter. 

“Ronan-,” Adam began, he didn’t like where this was going, walls were being built back up at an alarming pace and Adam wasn’t sure he had the strength to break through them again. 

“I’ll see you at school, Parrish.” 

Like that the conversation was over, the door was closed, and Ronan Lynch was walking away. 

And Adam. Well, Adam was left there flushed and alone in an unfamiliar church. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look im posting things because i wanna get on with this story but if it's glaringly bad i would appreciate it if yall would do the polite thing and look AWAY i have been writing this fic for five whole years and i am NOT a good writer
> 
> that being said i may come back and edit things at a later date but really i want to finish this story even if it's not amazing because i'm really not a writer i just need to finish this fic for my own sake!!!!!


	9. viii; and every demon wants his pound of flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from shake it out by florence + the machine)

Adams’ head was a tangle of thoughts so intricately knotted that he couldn’t even begin to unpick them. For the past week, Ronan had been avoiding him with an almost impressive certainty, refusing to meet Adam’s eyes, treating him with cool civility, and frustratingly guarded so that Adam remained at arm's length. To make matters worse, his father had decided that this week it was his singular mission to make Adam’s life hell. The combination of the two meant Adam was staring down a tsunami, with nothing but a rubber dinghy. He was exhausted and fracturing, feeling like every time he took a shower another piece would splinter and fall, seeping down the drain. It was glaringly obvious to Noah and Gansey that something had happened and yet they politely refused to bring it up. Adam wasn’t sure if he was grateful or frustrated but today Adam was hoping that pattern of ignoring the problem until it went away was going to continue. 

“Adam?” Gansey’s confused voice cut through Adam’s inner turmoil, forcing him to return to the empty garage in the late summer evening. 

“Sorry,” Adam cursed inwardly, “what were you saying?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Gansey smiled easily, and Adam felt a twinge of jealousy. His easy nature and natural charm were what everyone loved about Gansey and what Adam so desperately strived to recreate. Yet, for all his attempts, Adam knew he was a bootleg, a knock-off that lacked any of the likeability of the original, “I was just wondering if you could take a look, see if this is right?” 

Adam shook himself slightly and moved to inspect Gansey’s handiwork on the Camaro's engine. Gansey’s face creased with concern. 

“Have you been sleeping alright? I know you’ve been working yourself to the bone...,” Gansey trailed off, leaving his belief behind the reason unspoken. 

“I’m fine, honestly,” Adam assured quickly. He wasn’t certain he liked where this conversation was headed and knew he lacked the maneuverability to escape without being rude to Gansey. 

“Ronan had mentioned to me he offered you the couch at Monmouth,” Gansey offered a tactful smile, “we’d all love to have you,” 

Adam shook his head frustratedly, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. He leaned over the exposed engine, refusing to meet Gansey’s gaze. 

“I’m honestly fine,” He couldn’t ignore the tremor which snuck into his voice. _Traitor._

“Adam...,” Gansey placed a hand lightly on his shoulder and Adam felt his shoulders stiffen. He could hear the pity 

“Why are you even bringing this up?” Adam snapped, "Lynch already offered and I already refused," he twisted around to face Gansey who held his hands up in a placating gesture. 

“Adam, I know you’re tired, I know how hard you’ve been working,” Gansey paused, “staying at Monmouth with us would mean your closer to school, you wouldn’t have to walk anymore which means you could get more sleep, you could study with us and eat with us...,” Gansey took a step closer, gently reaching up and clasping Adam’s neck with a soft palm, “you don’t have to make it harder for yourself, this doesn’t need to be any more than it already is,” His forehead brushed Adam’s and they stood like that for a moment as Adam trembled. He swallowed roughly, feeling the tension seep from his frame. 

“Okay...alright...,” Adam inhaled shakily, moving back to meet Gansey’s earnest stare, “just until I can figure something else out,” Gansey nodded eagerly. 

“Of course,' Gansey smiled boyishly, 'you’re really doing me and Noah a favour, we're secretly hoping Ronan will finally be less moody with you around,” He said it so endearingly that Adam knew it was more for his sake rather than borne from any frustration. Still, he felt a twinge in his chest at the mention of Ronan. It was impossible to notice the distance which had very suddenly appeared between them and Adam felt a little raw at the mention of his name. 

“I doubt that,” He offered weakly and Gansey winced a little. 

“I’m sorry, I know Ronan has been a little distant,” Adam looked down at his grease-stained palms, struggling to meet Gansey’s piercing gaze. 

“Yeah...well...what’s it to me,” Adam shrugged. 

“Last week, it was the anniversary...of his father’s-,” Gansey looked slightly pained, evidently uneager to discuss Niall Lynch’s brutal demise. 

“His murder?” Gansey nodded, “I hadn’t realised,” Adam wondered if that was why Ronan had invited him to the church. 

“I think it all catches up to him again,” Gansey sighed, “I don't think he knows what to do, how to stop carrying it around with him,” Gansey glanced down, a mournful half-smile playing on his features, "I just hope you won't judge him too harshly...," 

"I don't really see why what I think of Lynch matters but...," Adam shrugged ruefully. Gansey met his gaze.

"You and I both know that it does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme give u those adansey crumbs!!!! enjoy!!!!! anyway we get to see kavinsky next chapter i'm excited he's really fun 2 write lmao


	10. pt x; i had a dream i got everything i wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from everything i wanted by billie eilish)

Ronan sat on the curb, flicking his lighter on and off as he bounced his knee agitatedly. 

Bringing Adam to the church had hurt. For the past week, Ronan had felt exposed like every nerve on his body was rubbed raw. Ronan was _sick_ of feeling tender. He grabbed his phone, punching in a number he hated to admit he knew off by heart. 

“K? I’m coming over.” 

In just 15 short minutes, Ronan was stood outside a familiar pounding his fist on a familiar grey-painted door. Fuck. 

“Kavinsky!” He growled impatiently. Where was that son-of-a-bitch? 

“KAV-,” Ronan paused as the door slowly opened, revealing Joseph Kavinsky. 

“Lynch...always a pleasure.” Kavinsky tossed him a lazy grin, widening the door to allow Ronan to enter. 

“Yeah? Wish I could say the same,” Ronan countered as he followed Kavinsky inside. 

“Hey now,” Kavinsky tutted, “who called who?” He gestured for Ronan to follow as he wandered up the stairs. 

“Get off your high horse, Kavinsky,” Ronan snorted, striding after Kavinsky, “Where’s the rest of your little gang anyway?” He glanced guardedly around, as though he expected Proko, Swan, and Prokopenko to appear. 

“Out.” Kavinsky waved a hand dismissively, as he opened the door to his room and Ronan followed him. His lip curled as Kavinsky settled on his bed, patting the sheets next to him.

“So, what brings you here today?” Kavinsky smirked, earning an eye roll from Ronan. 

“Don’t play dumb, K, it’s not cute,” Ronan leaned back, his head lolling against the wall, “You know...I can’t sleep.” 

Kavinsky kept his eyes on Ronan, his gaze reminiscent of a hunter watching their prey. 

“Nightmares?” He purred as he leaned over Ronan, grabbing a baggie filled with little green pills off his desk. 

“Fuck off,” Ronan snarled but the venom behind it was weak and they both knew it. 

“Now now,” Kavinsky chastised, “don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Lynch,” 

Ronan felt his upper lip curl in annoyance. He surveyed Kavinsky and the dangling baggie. 

“Whatever K,” They were too close, Ronan surveyed Kavsinky’s heavy-lidded gaze and hollow cheekbones. He couldn’t bring himself to look away and Kavinsky smirked. 

“Bit weak on the retorts today, Lynch,” He shook a couple of pills into his palm, “Cat got your tongue?” 

“I didn’t come here to exercise my witty repertoire with you, K,” 

“No, that’s just an added bonus,” Kavinsky took two pills between his thumb and forefinger, he had long, elegant fingers yet his pale complexion left them looking skeletal, “open up,” he smiled wickedly. Ronan rolled his eyes but found his mouth parting. 

“Good boy,” Their eyes remained fixed on each other as Ronan swallowed. Rough seas meeting a stormy sky. 

They stayed like that, backs pressed against the wall as Ronan felt his body growing heavier until he felt like he was sinking into the mattress, through the floor. 

“I’m just...so tired,” Ronan muttered and Kavinsky tossed him a languid stare. 

“Well, this is a tried and true method, Lynch,” Kavinsky was closer now, flicking a lighter absent-mindedly. Ronan watched, captivated, as Kavinsky’s nimble fingers moved. He was so pale, almost corpse-like. Sometimes Ronan wondered if he was real. Alive. When he moved like a wraith with the easy self-confidence of someone who hated himself and was desperate not to let on. His eyes felt heavy now, his thoughts felt like they were crawling through ink. 

"I don't mean sleepy...it's different...it's like in here...," Ronan tapped his chest with the flat of his palm, "God...that sounds fucking stupid," Ronan mumbled, embarrassment causing his face to flush. 

“How’s that?” Kavinsky smirked, grasping Ronan’s jaw in his free hand as he turned Ronan’s face back towards Kavinsky. 

“Yeah...good,” He knew his speech sounded slurred as he felt the murky tendrils of sleep clawing at him, “good,” Ronan found his eyes closing as the inky darkness claimed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was unhealthy and charged and i consider my work done!
> 
> probably won't update until after the weekend now!!! realising my chapters are getting shorter and less descriptive etc so i'll try get smth chunkier up in the next few parts!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> find me; @thatsoravenboys on twt and tumblr <3


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